Step Back
by Anya2
Summary: Dean has a long built in habit of trying to help Sam in every situation. This time though he has got to step back. SamSarah, DeanOFC


**Title: **Step Back  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Characters:** Dean, OFC, Sam, Sarah  
**Pairing: **Sam/Sarah, Dean/OFC  
**Warnings:** None  
**Spoilers: **Minor mentions of 2x20 – What Is And What Should Never Be

**Summary: **Dean has a long built in habit of trying to help Sam in every situation. This time though he has got to step back.

* * *

Dean drummed the steering wheel impatiently, his fingers so tense he was surprised that they didn't snap on every impact. Patience was a virtue he had never possessed and waiting was certainly not his forte. It was in fact a minor miracle that he hadn't ground his teeth to dust in the five minutes she'd been gone.

He'd just wanted to stop at a gas station. Actually he hadn't wanted to stop at all but she'd insisted that they had to get some. And no cheap ones from a truck stop either. No, they had to stop off in a town on the way back and pick up some proper flowers from a proper florist. He didn't understand why that was the case but he'd humoured her all the same, knowing it would only make his life easier if he did. She'd asked him if he wanted to come in with her, to help her pick but he'd just snorted a laugh, assuring her that he would be about as much use as an ejector seat in a helicopter. He wouldn't have a clue what to get and so she might as well choose herself. Not roses though, that was his one proviso. Roses reminded him of death and that wasn't really appropriate in the circumstances.

"You weren't, like, growing them yourself or something?" Dean quipped irritably as she finally returned and laid a large bunch carefully on the back seat of the Impala. They were definitely not roses although since that was as pretty much the limit of his flower knowledge he couldn't say what they actually were. But they were colourful and they smelt nice so they seemed to be doing their job.

She just ignored his comment as she slid into the seat beside him, placing a paper bag on the floor.

"What's that?" he asked with a frown.

"Supplies," she said almost cryptically, refusing to go into details which made him roll his eyes before gunning the engine and blasting them back towards the highway. They were only an hour away. Fifty minutes if he really pushed it. He supposed he could even do it in forty if he tried but now wasn't the time to risk getting arrested.

Dean had been admittedly been on edge ever since Sam had phoned the night before. Izzy had tried to relax him, to convince him that everything would be okay but it hadn't worked.

His one comforting thought was that Sam was actually there where he should be and not hours away with them. At first he'd been vaguely hinting that he should be coming on the hunt too. He'd always insisted that this wouldn't change anything, that it wouldn't affect the job and he was trying to prove that was still true. Of course Dean knew that that couldn't be the case. It had to change things whether they wanted it to or not.

He was pretty much okay with that to be honest. He understood. He'd actually been the one to put his foot down when Sam had suggested that maybe he could come with them after all, saying that just a day or two would be fine. Dean had just told him to shut the hell up and get back to painting walls and installing furniture. Which, he pointed out, Sam should have done long before now instead of chasing demons and spirits across the adjoining states. He had to prioritise. Besides, Dean had pointed out with a grin, he'd had three years of Sam staying in motel rooms with him and Izzy, being the world's best anti-aphrodisiac. He was glad to be shot of him for once.

Still when Sam had called sounding stressed and a bit panicked Dean had felt bad. Although he was relieved that he had made Sam stay behind, he couldn't help but think that he should be there too, looking after his little brother, keeping an eye on him. Which was stupid given the circumstances but he couldn't help how he felt.

Izzy had insisted that they finish the job however. This was a private thing for Sam and Sarah and they'd be better off turning up a day later when it was all over and they'd had a bit of alone time to get used to it. Annoyingly enough Dean knew she was right but he didn't have to like it. Some things Sammy just had to do on his own even if Dean's instinct told him otherwise.

Dean hated hospitals and stepping inside one even in these circumstances put him on edge. All he could remember of hospitals was death and fear and those associations were hard to break. It did help a bit though when he finally saw his little brother, coming to meet them in the corridor, absolutely beaming.

"I have a son," he blurted out, unable to hold it in even though he'd already phoned and told Dean him that a few hours ago. He looked tired and drained but was still grinning dopily from ear to ear.

Dean forwent any of his usual aversion for sappy moments and pulled his brother into a tight hug. Sam had tears in his eyes, emotional and exhausted. Dean blinked rapidly, pretending that his were just watering slightly under the bright lights.

Sam hugged Izzy so hard that he lifted her clean off her feet and she laughed at him for it, telling him to ease up before she ended as up an inmate here with busted ribs. He apologised a little sheepishly, reminding her he hadn't slept in near on two days, but she just grinned and ruffled his hair in a way that often annoyed him but which in the moment he didn't seem bothered by.

When they went into the room Sarah declared her undying love for the other woman when Izzy revealed that her supplies were magazines, chocolate and diet coke. She beamed at the flowers too and Dean had to give Izzy her dues there; clearly a good choice.

Little Boy Winchester – who was still as yet unnamed – looked impossibly tiny in Sam's large arms, seemingly against the odds to find a comfortable way to nestle into the muscles there. To be honest the whole thing kind of freaked Dean out. He couldn't quite get his head around the fact that his baby brother was now a father. It somehow didn't seem to fit. He kept having to quash the instinct to try and take control of the situation, to tell Sam what to do and to take some of the burden from him. This was Sam's moment, not his. He had to finally take a step back.

He took an actual physical step back when Sam suggested that Dean hold his new nephew. He actually quite liked kids, had never had much of a problem handling them, but babies? He had next to no experience of babies. He wouldn't even know where to start. And Dean was a man used to knowing exactly what he was doing in every and any situation. Or at least he was one who had the confidence to know that he could handle whatever was being throw in his direction. But this? He was a total novice and it put him completely on edge.

It took a bit of persuading but finally Dean was holding his nephew in uncertain arms, the kid weighing next to nothing which just made him even more nervous, wondering how breakable babies really were. It seemed as well to drag up a vague and half forgotten memory of holding baby Sammy like this, his dad making sure he supported the head and his mom looking on with a warm smile. It didn't seem really possible that this was now Sam's own kid even though he'd had near nine months to get used to the fact that it was going to happen.

The baby shifted slightly in his arms but seemed to be at ease there. Even Dean was surprised at how quickly he relaxed into it. Sarah joked that he was more of a natural than Sam had been.

He'd lived in a wish once, in a world that could have been like this. Sarah wasn't Jess though and Izzy wasn't Carmen. His mom wasn't going to come and visit and his dad hadn't died peacefully from a stroke. Still, he realised as he looked at his little nephew and saw how happy Sam and Sarah were, this reality wasn't a bad one.

A couple of days later, back at Sam's home he watched as Izzy sat in the arm chair, watching TV as she cradled her 'sort of' nephew in her arms, the kid soundly sleeping. Sam and Sarah had only gone down to the store for a few bits and wouldn't be gone long but Izzy had offered to babysit rather than making them take the baby with them. Half hour break always did stressed new parents good anyway.

Dean felt a twang in his stomach as he stood in the doorway looking at her, suddenly broodier than a mother hen. She instantly caught his look.

"Don't even think about it," she warned firmly before she smiled, "Besides, you've got to marry me first Winchester before I even think about bearing anything of yours."

He grinned too as he made his way into the room and crouched down in front of them, his thumb absently rubbing across the engagement ring that had sat on her hand for too long now. A promise not yet fulfilled.

"Yeah," he said softly, "Really should be getting around to that."

He leant forward and kissed her slowly, taking his time to properly feel the gentle tug of her lips against his.

"The bearing or the marrying?" she asked when he momentarily moved his mouth from hers.

"Both."

He went to kiss her again but little Ben wailed in seeming protest, suddenly awake and wanting very much to make his presence known. Dean shook his head with a sigh.

"Just like his dad, major passion killer."

She smiled a little, "I do think he looks like Sam you know."

"Yeah, poor little dude. It can't be nice knowing that you're destined to be butt ugly."

That earned Dean a whack of admonishment on the shoulder.

"And his taste in music is gonna suck too," Dean continued regardless, with a sympathetic shake of his head, "I'm thinking about going upstairs and sneaking a tape of AC/DC songs into that little player they've got by his cot. Give the kid a fighting chance at least."

"And that," Sam said from the doorway with a raised eyebrow, "Is why we're never leaving that kid in your influence."

Dean just looked up and grinned broadly, "Hey, I'm his cool uncle Dean, he's gonna love me."

"He's gonna be told that you're not to be listened to," Sam only half joked, coming into the room to pick up his son, seeming to check him over and make sure that everything was still well with him. Of course he trusted Izzy implicitly but he obviously hadn't quite gotten used to the fact yet that he could leave the kid in someone else's care for fifteen minutes without something terrible happening. Dean guessed that was something a new parent learnt over time. Still, Sam was pushing it a bit.

He really was, as Dean had pointed out on numerous occasions, becoming annoyingly paranoid - like he was just expecting something to go wrong. That was only further confirmed when Sam asked Izzy if she wouldn't mind helping look after Ben tomorrow too whilst he and Sarah put in child locks and baby gates. All the things he probably should have done before the kid was born but which he had never got round to what with being busy juggling two lives.

Sam wouldn't even contemplate hunting at the moment, but in a couple of months when things had settled down a little? Dean knew that even if deep down Sam wanted to give it up entirely he never would. The guilt would get to him in the end, knowing that there were people out there scared and dying and that he could have at least helped some of them. Dean reasoned that plenty of dad's did dangerous jobs – they were soldiers and firemen and cops. He and Sam would just have to be extra careful from now on. No more crazy, half assed plans. At least not on purpose anyways.

Dean shook his head with a chuckle as he looked at his little brother, "Dude, you're gonna have this place locked up like Fort Knox. Come on, Sammy. You gotta chill. He'll be fine."

"Just wait until you've got one of your own, Dean," Sam said sagely, holding his son protectively close to his chest, "We'll see how relaxed you are then."

It wasn't until five years later that Dean had the opportunity to find out.

He always hated it when Sam was right.


End file.
